


behind thy crimson eyes

by Sintharius



Series: Sergei Alekseyevich Dragunov [6]
Category: Tekken (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-22 14:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30040134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintharius/pseuds/Sintharius
Summary: For most of his life, Sergei Dragunov has never fled from a fight.Until he does.(or Dragunov discovers the most important relationship of his life entirely by accident)
Series: Sergei Alekseyevich Dragunov [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483805
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Raining Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> This idea originally was in Halloween 2020, inspired by Dragunov's vampire skin in Tekken Mobile.
> 
> Yes, this is an AU of an AU.

For most of his life, Sergei Dragunov has never fled from a fight. Even when he was younger, a barely graduated recruit straight out of training, he has always been good at judging his odds of winning in direct combat. He wasn’t called the White Angel of Death for nothing.

But as his boots splatter rainwater all over and his arm bleeding from a deep wound, Dragunov feels fear for the first time in his career.

_What was that… thing?_

He was stalking a target; a suspected spy Spetsnaz designated for observation, and if needed, elimination. Not a big deal for him at any rate – ever since he participated in the project, combat has never been easier for him… even if it means he gets some new …problems… to take care of. Dragunov still shudders at the thought of the scientists calling his new needs “problems”. Not that it’s hard to get them taken care of in his profession, anyway.

What seemed to be a simple observe-and-eliminate had turned into a much bigger problem than he had anticipated. Dragunov definitely did not expect the target to _turn into a giant wolf_ and turned the table on him. His skill set was designed to deal with humanoids, not canines. Especially not something of his size.

He’s going to have words with Command after this is over. If he even makes it back alive – he has no doubt the …wolf… thing… caught his scent during their earlier clash and can jump him at any moment now.

Dragunov mentally calculates his odds of victory. Completely unknown enemy with no known counters, physical parameters matching or likely exceed his own… his chance of coming out on top are looking lower by the second. Short of a miracle, he’s not going to come out of this without severe injuries at best… at worst, he’ll become another name on the Spetsnaz memorial wall.

But Sergei Dragunov never goes down without a fight.

The bleeding on his arm has stopped, the wound on its way to sealing itself up. He racks his mind over possible weak points on a canine creature – _soft belly, neck, possibly leg joints_ – as the scent of wet dog creeps closer. Would hitting it in the standard weak points do anything? He knows that a lot of weak points on the normal human body are not on his own, the modifications extensive enough to reinforce the multitude of natural weaknesses on a mortal body. If this is the same case with this wolf…

A growl was the only warning he got that his hunter was closing in, before a shadow falls over him.

Dragunov spins to avoid the claws that barely missed his face, before delivering a roundhouse kick to the underbelly of the creature. It breaks a wall with its collision, but shrugs off the blow like nothing. He shifts into his fighting stance, ready to engage the beast-

And staggers as sharp pain blooms on his back.

He jumps back to avoid the next blow, only for a heavy weight to smack him in the side. Momentum carries him straight into the remains of the wall he just put the monster through earlier, and he crumbles in a heap.

It was clear that Dragunov is no match for a supernatural creature of this caliber. The project’s trainers made it clear that they only intended to use him for dealing with human subjects; anything related to the supernatural is not part of their jurisdiction. And now, that decision is coming back to bite him hard.

_…Am I going to die here?..._

The beast pads closer, victorious in its battle against the White Angel of Death. Dragunov can only watch as the creature prepares to rip him apart.

He closes his eyes.


	2. Raining Encounter Pt. 2

_Kaunan. Torch, fire, malady, death._

_Ansuz. Inspiration, wisdom._

There’s a whimper, then a long screech.

Dragunov opens his eyes to light.

The wolf creature is on fire. And not just any fire – _blue fire_ , engulfing the monster as it struggles with some invisible force keeping it in place.

“ _Ah, so you’re not dead._ ”

A man is standing near the beast, an umbrella in his hand keeping the rain from soaking his black trench coat. He turns to watch the agent, but made no move to approach.

Dragunov’s body protests with pain as he struggles to rise, and he settles with sitting with his back to the destroyed wall. A flame of such intensity and size should be scorching hot, and yet he feels no heat emanating from the fire – magic? He’s completely clueless in magic, with Spetsnaz generally stays out of magical affairs.

“ _Can you move? Ah, silly of me to ask that._ ” The agent realizes he’s unconsciously relaxing as the stranger approaches, instead of his guarded stance every time he faces someone unknown. Injuries notwithstanding.

_What’s going on?_

The man hesitates before kneeling down and reaching out with his free hand. When Dragunov does not show any sign of resistance, he starts gently probing the multitude of bruises and cuts.

The leather glove is warm on his skin, and the touch is nothing like anything he had experienced. He’s long used to talking with his fists; the scientists in the project lacked bedside manners, and the special forces division is not known for being gentle. It’s… strangely comforting, and he wonders if this is how kindness feels like.

At this distance, he can see the stranger’s facial features more clearly. Dark hair like his own, neatly cut in a way that reminds him of an officer. Frown lines at the corners of his eyes, other subtle signs of aging… a lifetime of stress, perhaps. And gunmetal gray eyes that seem to bore into his very soul-

“ _You’re not going back to Spetsnaz looking like this, fledgling. I’ll make sure you are taken care of._ ”

Dragunov shivers before mentally wincing from the pain shooting up his spine.

His uniform gives away his affiliation with Spetsnaz, so the man knowing that can be given a pass. But his true nature is highly classified information within the agency itself… how does this person know just from visually inspecting him? And what is “taken care of”? He doesn’t like the sound of this, even if this stranger had just saved his life from a rampaging wolf monster.

Whatever it is, he’s in no condition to fight. The brief battle left him in intense pain when he moves even just a little; even walking is going to be difficult. As much as he doesn’t like it, he’s at the mercy of the stranger. And then there’s the captive…

His target isn’t dead – yet. The flames have burned out at some point, leaving behind a very naked man still held aloft in the air and is now pinning the magus with hateful eyes.

Dragunov wonders if the stranger would allow him to complete his mission.

Until there’s a flash of metal in the stranger’s hand. His eyes catch the light shining off the blade – a silver knife – before it slices off the wolf man’s head like a knife through butter. Both the head and the disembodied body dissolve into mist as they plummet to the ground, the black dust getting swept away by the pouring rain.

At least that took care of his mission.

His back twinges with pain as it patches itself back together, and Dragunov feels the pangs of hunger creeping in. With his target dead, he’s going to have to find some other poor sod to get nourishment… though it’s going to be a difficult task when he can’t even move. Unless-

 _“Forgive me, this isn’t going to be a smooth ride._ ”

The stranger is drawing some strange symbols in the air with the knife, having returned to Dragunov’s side in the blink of an eye.

Both of them disappear in a puff of smoke, leaving behind the destroyed wall as the only proof a battle ever took place there.


End file.
